Chapter 7

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A/N 

Um. Oops. 

So last Monday/Tuesday I was too tired to write and then I was in Florida on a marching band trip until Sunday night. Then last night, I fell asleep typing.  

So, yeah, sorry that this is really late, but it's fairly long, so maybe that'll make up for it? 

Love you! 

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Harry's POV

I began to hate food as much as I hated life. When they tried to move me into tomato soup again two days after the first time, I'd legitimately projectile vomited all over the table. I officially hated tomato soup.

So I was stuck with chicken noodle soup, but I saw that they were adding more noodles and a few vegetables in it.

Aysiah had gotten me to talk about my family and my friends outside of the band, but each time she tried to get me to open up about Louis, I shut up immediatly. She told me that I was going to be allowed visitors at the end of the week.

I missed the lads and my family, but in the few days I'd been in rehab, I'd grown used to the bubble that blocked reality out. Felix had warned me about not getting used to the bubble, but I'd already started to.

"I want to meet your mates when they visit you," he drawled when I walked in after puking tomato soup for the third time.

"You can talk to them instead of me. I don't want to," I muttered, falling face-first onto my bed.

I could practically hear him frowning.

"Look, Harry, you're going to have to talk to them eventually," he sighed, "I didn't want to talk to my parents when they put Matt and I in here, but I did eventually. It's part of healing."

"Felix, it's been only a little less than two weeks since I tried to kill myself. I'm not even remotely ready to heal," I sighed.

"You began healing the second you woke up, mate," Felix replied.

I raised my head to look at him. He shrugged.

"S'true," he said.

"Why the hell aren't you my therapist?" I asked, rolling on to my back.

"Cause Aysiah actually knows what she's doing. Random shit flies out of my mouth and sometimes it's inspirational or whatever," he replied.

"Mmm. I'm gonna sleep for a bit. Apparently if I can't keep tomato soup down, they just keep increasing the amount of chicken noodle soup they give me. It's making my stomach hurt like hell," I sighed.

"Matt said once that the cramps that he got from the easy food were nothing compared to what happened when he got to the complex stuff," Felix commented.

"Thanks for the warning," I mumbled, wrapping my arms around my aching stomach.

"Just telling you what to expect, mate. See, that's the nice thing about drugs. They're hard to kick just like anything else and you have to go through withdrawal and shit, but you don't get stomach cramps," he said brightly.

"You're annoyingly positive," I commented.

"That's the only way to get better," he replied.

"What if I don't want to get better? I tried to kill myself for a reason," I growled moodily.

"But you're trying to get better, aren't you? You're trying to eat and you haven't cut. You've actually pretty positive compared to a lot of people around here," he said.

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